It was 1 am Easter Sunday in 2004.
The band 16 Horsepower had just left the
Bowery Ballroom’s stage as I climbed the stairs to the
cramped backstage, where the band was catching their breath
with a few friends. David Eugene Edwards, Pascal Humbert, and
Jean-Yves Tola sat on a couch. In front of them was a coffee
table crammed with equal parts of beer, Poland Spring water,
and plastic cups serving as ashtrays. Everyone was smoking,
drinking, and shaking hands, their relief palpable. Having
driven themselves from Cleveland to Philly, where they had
played the night before, then on to New York, where they
hadn’t played in three years, no one had slept in over
forty-eight hours; but it’s hard to tell, as the energy
generated in their performance seemed to be carrying them
through.
Everyone was excited —
there was a definite buzz in the air. The band looked pleased
with the performance and it was apparent this was a good ending
for the tour, short as it was and as long overdue as it seemed.
Pascal later agreed, “Yeah, I have a very good memory of
that show, I think as far as the U.S. goes it was one of our
best shows in a long time.” And everyone who came to see
them agreed.
The room filled up fast, and
David got up from the sofa and sat on the floor to make room
for a new arrival. Someone made a comment about the lack of
alcohol and asked why so little is provided. David explains,
“It’s in our rider — we put down everything
we like — but every time we fax it to a club or concert
hall they fax it back with a big X through that part. Of
course, in Europe we never have that problem. There we get
everything we need.” Pascal the bass player jumps up,
goes down to the bar, and comes back with a case of warm beer
and some ice. Everyone is happy. As the conversations split up
and deepen, the room settles down and it becomes increasingly
apparent that there is an unusual lack of ego in the room, a
sort of eurhythmic equanimity between the three performers.
At 1:30 A.M. the band has
four more hours to kill before they will get on a plane to
return to their respective homes after their six-city tour.
Their van and the trailer that serves as their tour bus sit
outside on Delancey Street waiting to be driven home by their
tech crew. This time they are flying home, and for a change
avoiding the long, cramped ride home, which at this hour seems
even more grueling.
Around 2:30 A.M., the bar is
closed, and the manager wants to lock up. The band has decided
to hang out in town instead of heading to a hotel room that
awaits them at the airport. So someone suggests a bar nearby
where they can drink and actually smoke (legally). Everyone
heads downstairs and out onto the street and we walk across
town. Eventually we file into the bar and finally get a real
drink. The conversation ebbs and flows and the bar owner sends
over a round of drinks, and I’m thinking, this is more
like it — at least someone is giving them the star
treatment.
Finally we parted around 4:
30 as they closed yet another bar. I head home and they make
their way to the airport and possibly a few hours’ sleep
on the plane. Nobody realizing this would be their last concert
in New York and one of their last shows ever as a band. This
all would have seemed like a typical day in the life of a
struggling rock and roll band, but that’s where the irony
lies.
These people aren’t a
struggling rock and roll band — they are mature
professionals who have honed their skills playing in various
bands, performing, or recording with a network of musicians and
producers reaching back to the early 1980s. 16 Horsepower was a
band that has been together for over a decade, had released six
well-received albums, and did extensive touring to sold-out
venues in Europe and in America They all have roots in what
Pascal calls “post-punk pre new wave era bands.”
Who together developed a sound that continues to defy
critic’s attempts to label them.These people have been
around. Pascal and Jean-Yves were drawn away from their
classical studies as children in Paris to the music and energy
of the punk scene during the early eighties, eventually playing
together in the band Passion Fodder. They recorded with
producers like Brian Eno and opened for acts like Iggy Pop,
Echo and the Bunnymen, and the Violent Femmes. David started
his first band in 1982 — a punk band called Restless
Middle Class. He did his time in Denver and then L.A.,
performing with several bands before joining the Denver
Gentlemen.
Stalker Trish Goff by Richard Kern
team work Sam Bean (Iron & Wine) interviews Joey Burns
(Calexico) on music and their collaborative album
art of view Portfolio Currated by Michael Clifton with texts
by Alissa Bennett
Pascal and Jean-Yves
eventually moved to L.A. with Passion Fodder, where the band
put out two more albums before breaking up. So after touring
for a few years with Passion Fodder, and several albums later
they found themselves living in L.A. without a band and out of
cash. So they went to work building sets for the Roger Corman
movie studio, where they met David. They quickly realized they
had a lot in common musically, especially a love for what David
calls American Traditional music. It was this bond that
eventually led to the creation of 16 Horsepower.
What made the band so
outstanding was the delicate balance of the classically trained
Pascal and Jean Yves juxtaposed with David’s self taught
musical style and his haunting voice.
Their songs are powerful,
provocative, and memorable. Their music is driving, dark, and
complicated, and their act is polished, dramatic, and
unrelenting. On stage they move from song to song so quickly
that neither the band nor the audience have a moment to catch
its breath. With barely enough time to switch instruments,
David is on to the next song. His energy is frenetic and
contagious, his presence mysterious and seductive. Never
knowing what’s going to happen next is one of the most
compelling things at a 16 Horsepower show.
Onstage David’s mind
at times seems somewhere else, as if he’s hearing the
words he’s singing for the first time through some
listening device that taps into the unknown One member of the
audience seeing the band for the first time described it as
“sort of channeling.” David doesn’t disagree
with this, saying, “The songs that I write — they
speak to me as much as they would be to someone who is
listening. I feel like I could be in the audience listening to
them ... the songs just kind of take me and they use me in a
sense ... I’m kind of just at the mercy of the songs
themselves.”
Early on they decided to
ignore the clichéd notion that they had to live and play
in the major urban music centers and chose to remain in Denver
so they could concentrate more on their music. It was in Denver
that they developed their sound and worked out their
performances, attracting the attention of a major record label,
and 16 Horsepower was born. Eventually they built a strong
foundation in the United States, but they knew they had to go
to Europe. Jean-Yves remembers, “That was kind of a funny
thing. I knew that we were going to do well in Europe, because
I was from there, but they (the record company) didn’t
want us to go, they said ‘No, you have to work the States
first,’ but finally, through some friends we got offered
this tour with Grant Lee Buffalo, and we were like,
“Yeah, let’s go, let’s go,” but we
could not afford it. And the label said, ‘No, we’re
not going give you that money to go there,’ and we said,
‘Well we’re going to go anyway, we’ll put it
on a credit card, we’ll figure it out. But we’re
going.’ And so they finally agreed.”
Their success
wasn’t just limited to their music, individually their
personal lives became more and more fullfilling. Jean-Yves had
a Horse ranch in California, Pascal lived on a Ranch in
Colorado and David had his family in Denver. They became
increasingly reluctant to leave for anything but truly
important reasons. This led them to cut back on their touring
schedules, recording sessions, and so on. Each member basically
gives the same three reasons though in a slightly different
order.
The first is that they
didn’t want to spend all their time cramped in some tour
bus. The second is that touring in America is just too
difficult on many levels in comparison to Europe. In Europe the
cities are closer together, the clubs and fans more receptive,
and the radio and television more diverse when it comes to
presenting music. Most important, though, is that they all seem
to agree that they wanted each and every show to be important,
not just a required stop on a long list of tour dates. The same
goes for the recordings: they wanted to take the time to make
the music as true as possible, despite record companies demands
for some sort of release schedule.
Pascal says it best when he
notes, “We all have passions and other things on the
side, and it’s just we’ve never said music first,
one hundred percent. Yeah, music is first, but the other
projects are as important in way, because you have a family,
and a wife, you want to fulfill that as well, and it’s
not impossible.” He goes on to say, “A lot of
people think it is, but I don’t agree, I really
don’t agree, like when we decided to strip down the
touring to two tours a year, the record company first was like,
you guys are going to commit suicide by doing that because you
have to tour more often and you need to do promotion, and were
like, ‘No, no, we have a very strong fan base, we have
faith in them, and one tour a year in Europe is enough,
that’s just it, and if you don’t want to support us
we’ll go somewhere else. I’ll co-produce the album,
it’s OK.’ You know it doesn’t change. I mean,
actually, our public in Europe is grows each time we go back
there, so I think it’s just that the music
talks.”
Roger Corman
Born in1926, American producer and director
of low-budget films. Between 1956 and his official retirement
in 1971 he directed dozens of films, often as many as six or
seven per year, typically shooting extremely quickly on
leftover sets from other, larger productions. His probably
unbeatable record for a professional 35mm feature film was two
days and a night to shoot the original version of The Little
Shop of Horrors(1960). Among many world-class names who were
employed by him at a very early stage in their careers are
Francis Ford Coppola, Martin Scorsese, Jonathan Demme and James Cameron.
His autobiography, entitled How I Made a Hundred Movies in
Hollywood and Never Lost a Dime documents his
experiences in the film industry.
Church of the Nazarene
The Church of the Nazarene began in October
1895 in Los Angeles, California by a group wanting to impact
the poor and disadvantaged in the inner city. Theologically,
they were very much in line with what is now called the
American holiness movement. They were led by former Methodist
minister, Phineas F. Bresee (1838-1916). Almost
immediately, they began to plant other churches. In 1907 they
agreed to merge with the Association of Pentecostal Churches of
America, and became the Pentecostal Church of the Nazarene. In
1908 they invited the Holiness Church of Christ to join
them. In 1919 the word Pentecostal was dropped from the
denominational name because of confusion it caused with groups
who used that word to promote the practice of
glossolalia. The Church of the Nazarene has shown
significant growth over the last century through their own
evangelistic efforts and by mergers with other holiness groups.
The Church of the Nazarene from its roots was a denomination
with compassion for the poor and marginalized.
tribute A style tribute to the Black Panthers
pass the buck Collaborative presentation of Andros Wekua by
Rita Ackermann
insider art Exclusive interview with Berlin based artist
Jonathan Meese by Felix Ensslin and Sue de Beer
connection A conversation between film makers Gaspar
Noé (Irreversible) and Hubert Sauper (Darwin’s
Nightmare)
perspective Interview with Imitation of Christ’s Tara
Subkoff, followed by fashion images by Richard Kern
Everyone in the band has
their solo projects. Pascal and Jean-Yves have put out two
albums under the name Lillium. Pascal has recently scored a
feature film called La Cage produced by Canal Plus in France.
These projects were an important part of keeping the band
together. By encouraging each other to explore their music as
individuals, 16 Horsepower only seemed to get better. From
their early days they have been in constant collaboration with
someone, either as a band or individually — the list is
long and unfinished. Every album features various guest
artists, from musicians to producers. Just listen to Low Estate
(European Nouvelle version) with the two songs with Bertrand
Cantat of Noir Desir and you realize just how important these
collaborations are to the band.
We brought six people to the show
that night at Bowery Ballroom in New York City. Half knew the
band’s music and half didn’t, and days later
everyone was still talking about the show. Everyone agreed that
it was one of the best shows they had seen in a very long time.
I don’t think anyone expected the force of the emotion
that went on there that night. Somehow you got the impression
it was more than just good music — it was somehow deeper
than that.
After the show someone
finally cornered David and popped the question — the
religious question, that is. This is the question that everyone
eventually gets around to, and it’s something that haunts
the band as much as it haunts David’s lyrics. David is a
Christian and some people are not so comfortable with that.
Everyone at some point feels obligated to talk to him about it;
some probably take it too far and end up sounding condescending
or superficial, or worse, contrite. You can only imagine the
frustration the other band members feel when after an amazing
show this is where the conversation ends up. Yet how can it be
avoided, the name 16 Horsepower is from a passage from the Old
Testament. So many of 16 Horsepower’s songs (and Woven
Hand for that matter) are full of Christian precepts. How could
they not be? David is the grandson of a traveling Nazarene
preacher. He grew up in the church, and often accompanied his
grandfather when he traveled. David’s experience with his
religion is spread throughout his lyrics; his knowledge and
understanding of the bible runs so deep people often miss his
biblical references. He says, “The music in church as a
kid was always the part of church that really spoke to me, just
the words of the music and the music itself. And early on it
was real somber music, just an organ and singing, and singing
hymns from the 1600s. That’s pretty much what I do now
too. Yeah that was a big influence, really, and I still love
that music — probably it’s my favorite music
really.”
Outside of his music David
seems to keep his views to himself, until someone backs him
into a corner. No one really seems capable of fathoming
David’s conviction. They all seem to feel there must be
some explanation to his faith. So when someone starts talking
to him about God, David listens quietly. Some others join the
conversation and it starts to resemble a debate. But as
they seem to start to qualify their beliefs David’s tone
shifts, and he begins to get that look he had onstage —
the one where he seems to be hearing the words to the song for
the first time. David, still pumped from the show —
unleashes a barrage of testaments on his beliefs. Where others
want to draw a line to their commitment David insists there can
be no lines. He starts to hint at the possibility that God
might be beyond the comprehension of everyone, including
himself, and leaves it at that.
When I talked to him about
this alone he tells me “Religion is kind of a weird word
today … you know I grew up in the Church. My Grandfather
was the preacher of the Church that I went to. It was small and
he led the music. Socially that was a major part of my life.
There are a lot of people that grow up in the Church or what
ever and they don’t care about it or they don’t
follow it. Just because your parents believe doesn’t mean
you are going to. But I have always believed in it, in the
bible, and it’s a huge part of my life, it affects
everything I do. There is no separation between it and my
regular life … you know what I mean … That’s
what I sing about.
Yet it is precisely his
conviction that makes his music and performances so compelling.
To see him perform one can not escape being consumed by his
passion. His energy permeates the audience and its amazing the
emotion that resonates with every syllable he sings. It’s
the purity of his passion that transcends his music. continue
Andros Wekua inspired collages by Rita
Ackermann
